They Dance with Demons
by A Wordsmith
Summary: Hagrid nearly starts talking about how evil Slytherins are, but he sees something deep in Harry's eyes and closes his mouth. Ron never runs into Draco but does see his brothers, glowing red and gold while he's in their shadow. Hermione does find Draco and wants to make him hurt after the first slur, while whispers of Restricted Sections slither through her ears. Slytherin!Dark!Trio
1. Chapter 1

Hagrid is gruff and strong, and he thinks he knows exactly what he's doing as he leads a quiet Harry Potter through the streets of Diagon Alley. The boy's eyes are sharp and he buys fancy robes, turns down the offer of an owl, and disappears from sight for a moment too long in the bookstore. But Hagrid is still kind and knows he will do Harry a favor.

"Listen 'ere, Harry. You'll need to know something about Slytherins."

But then he stops and looks, really looks, into Harry's eyes. Yes, they're green and bright and the exact shade of his mother's, but there's something else there. Something he doesn't quite understand.

Perhaps wisely, he closes his mouth.

Ron is the last to be packed up in the Burrow, the last of the books he received for his birthday tucked into his trunk. He is quiet as he waits for the floopowder, his mother cheering on his brothers as they disappear in a swirl of flames. Molly glances at him, holding out the jar, before turning back and hollering at something one of the twins has done.

And then he is at platform 9¾, and he sees Percy pinning a badge to his chest, and he sees Fred and George cackling at something they've slipped into their trunk, and he sees Ginny having everything explained to her for next year.

He wonders what he will see if he looks in the mirror.

Hermione's parents are always kind to her, but they're a bit unnerved by this sharp girl they've raised. She knows far too much about things she shouldn't and took to magic without so much as a blink of an eye before asking questions. Her teachers at primary sent back many reports that they did not find until they discovered her secret stash attached on the upper side of the fan.

Her bag is packed with books and potion ingredients that weren't on the needed list, but it's not like they can turn her down. She already has her nose buried in between pages of books that she won't let them read the title of.

They watch her disappear onto the train with a mixture of happiness and fear.

Harry finds his way to the last compartment, tucking himself far against the wall. He doesn't speak until Ron comes through the door, and as they make eye contact, something sparks between them. They're shaking hands when Hermione walks through with a book about potions. The door snicks closed behind them and they can each sense something.

Harry wordlessly hands over a fancy robe to Ron, who offers it to Hermione. She snaps her book closed with a whip-thin smile on her face as she pulls out her wand. It's curved and made of a black wood, designs so faint they can barely see them scratched on its surface. Two words later and the robe is hemmed backward, growing two inches longer. Ron shrugs it on, offering his hand to her too.

There's something about this room, about these people, about the way they can feel their magic sliding over the others' bodies and humming softly. They don't need any words but they're different, they're different enough that they look normal to each other.

Ron brings up something about the upcoming year, a class he's looking forward to. Defense Against the Dark Arts, specifically jinxes and curses. The word defense is soft and narrow in his throat.

Harry says that Transfiguration looks fascinating, although Care of Magical Creatures is just as good. There's a curl of his fingers as he talks, and his grin hides a secret the others don't even try to pry from his lips.

Hermione flips her book cover up, exposing _Most Potente Potions_. They share a laugh and the ice, if there was any in the first place, is broken. There's a mention of a boy, Draco, that Hermione met and Ron talks a little of his family, shutting off fast. Harry has little to say, preferring to watch.

But the rest of the train ride passes quickly, and no one disturbs their compartment.

The doors slide open and they are walking through the crowded hallway full of shuffling black robes and whispering students. No one notices them, but as they walk with Hermione in the front and Harry and Ron flanking her, people move for a path. They make it to the boats fast and climb in together. Someone nearly joins them but shivers and runs off, and there's a grin on all of their faces as Hagrid sends the boats over the crystal waters.

Some boy with blond hair mumbles words as Hermione passes and her spine straightens like it's about to snap, hand curling around the edge of her wand. It's slipped up her sleeve, steadied by a thin rope tied around her wrist. Harry and Ron had matching ones after she had dug two more out of her trunk, and it's almost comforting to feel their magic dancing over the wood pressed against their arms. They bump shoulders with her and she relaxes, moving quickly to put distance in between them and the boy. She later tells them that his name is Draco Malfoy, and Ron snorts.

But then there's a woman named Professor McGonagall, and she's marching up and down the clump of them with words that are clever but rehearsed. She eyes them all with a steely eye, lingering on Harry the longest. He stares back with a perfectly blank face, and she turns away fast.

The march to the Great Hall is short, and then it is over. It's incredible to see, and all three of them have wide smiles and grins on their face as they take in the enormous four tables, the golden plates, and gently bobbing candles. There are students there too, hundreds of quietly shuffling ones that murmur amongst themselves.

Professor McGonagall appears again, this time with an old hat and thin lips. There is also a stool, but it does not come to life. The hat, however, does, and it sings a quite impressive song. There's something glimmering in all of their eyes, and a silent language composing of gentle kicks and brushes snaps between them.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

A petite girl with bouncing blonde hair runs through the group, jumping onto the stool. The professor lowers the hat onto her head, and there is a moment of confusion until the hat springs back to life and barks "Hufflepuff!"

There's a second of pause and then they look at Hermione. Her last name is Granger. She'll go first. She smiles at them with a little too much teeth and they grin back with equal excitement.

"Bones, Susan!"

Draco, behind them, is complaining again. Hermione's back straightens, and when her name is finally called she marches up with the walk of a warrior. Professor McGonagall looks quite surprised.

The hat is placed on her head and barely a moment passes before it is crowing "Slytherin!"

She grins, slow and steady, before pulling off the hat and gently handing it to the professor. There is clapping, but not enough, and Harry and Ron throw their whole bodies into their applause. She is sneered at from one side of the table but finds the other quite empty, sitting in between two seats.

But all too soon, Harry's name is called. There are whispers of "Harry Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived? Where is he?"

He walks up quickly, sitting down and closing his eyes. The hat nearly slips over his head.

It takes much, much longer than Hermione and there is a white-bearded man sitting at the professor's table that is looking more and more concerned with every passing second. But then the hat bends its tip one last time and calls "Slytherin!"

There is complete silence through the hall, and it even sounds like no one is breathing. The man, Professor Dumbledore, is frozen, much like the black-haired man with a hooked nose. But then Ron and Hermione clap, and then the Slytherins join in quietly, more out of a formality. The Gryffindors, loud and bright and red, are perfectly quiet, sitting in stunned silence at their table. Harry walks over to the Slytherin table, heading straight for the chair on the left of Hermione. Several scowl at him, covering available seats with their hands as he passes them. She smiles at him, before snapping her attention back up to the sorting. All that's left is Ron.

And then it is "Weasley, Ronald!" being announced over the hall. Someone shouts "Come on, Ronniekins!" and Harry and Hermione don't miss how his shoulders tighten and his face darkens. Professor Dumbledore is narrowing his eyes.

The hat is over his eyes but someone else with the same bright shock of red hair and grimacing at the rather fancy robes Ron is wearing. They're not even close to what he had before, what shabby robes he was obviously so angry at despite not saying a word.

"Slytherin!"

And then, even as there is more stunned clapping from the Slytherins, there are several shrieks and boos from the Gryffindors. It's the redheads, the Weasleys. Their calls don't have any words, but Ron is curling his shoulders as he sits next to Hermione. She presses a hand to his side and Harry reaches over to do the same, touching the green outline that appeared b magic on the edge of his robe. He looks at it, blue eyes shining with the hint of tears, and nods at them, shaking his head and standing up straight. But a look across the room shows hostile faces of Gryffindors.

They all ignore it.

The meal appears and they all dig in, carefully not saying anything about the two-seat gap on either side of them. Draco Malfoy is laughing loudly about something a little bit away, and the way he keeps turning to them is quite telling.

But then Professor Snape appears, and they are walking to a place where it is getting colder and colder and walls turn from portraits and tapestries to just stone blocks. There is a painting of a gentle landscape, and he turns and barks "Aconite." to it. The painting slowly unhinges on one side and opens, and they all file in.

The room is in soft greens, silvers, and grays. There are snakes carved on everything, from designs on the couches to markings over the walls. Even the fireplace is carved in the shape of a snake's mouth.

Professor Snape, with his cold black eyes, surveys the room. He spends a long time on Harry and Ron, though there is also careful consideration of Hermione and Draco. He launches into a long speech about House Unity. They are allowed to hate each other, but if that is even slightly shown outside of the commons, they will be punished. There will be a hierarchy for every year, as every year before them. Good grades are expected and required.

And then, as soon as he has finished and stepped backward, Draco is marching toward Hermione. He sneers at her before whipping a hand across her face.

There is silence in the common room.

"I am the leader, and a little mudblood like you will have to do exactly what I say in order to survive." His silver eyes snap to them. "You too, Potter and blood-traitor. _Exactly_. As I say."

Hermione carefully, ever-so-carefully, presses the tips of her fingers to the red mark on her face. Then she smiles, and it's nothing like the ones she gave Ron and Harry. It's quiet, demure, and not real. They tense.

"Of course," she says rather mildly. She extends a hand to him. He takes it, eyes victorious.

Her grin sharpens, growing wider and thinner. There is something dark and glowing in her eyes, even as a spark of magic crackles between her fingers.

Draco hisses out a pained breath. He tries to pull back but Hermione tightens her grip, still smiling. He starts to shriek in agony.

Everyone is frozen.

She releases him, revealing a burn mark in the exact shape of her hand scarred right on his wrist. There are tears staining his eyes.

 _Accidental magic_ , someone whispers.

 _Not so accidental_.

Hermione marches to Professor Snape, who is the best at hiding his shock.

"I'd like a room for three, please." And then she turns to walk away. Harry and Ron move to flank her, copying her movements. Their shoulders are straight and something glimmers in their eyes as they disappear from the common room.

* * *

 **HMMM**

 **Hey guys! This is awesome and so much fun to write!**

 **This will be the story of a quite Dark and Slytherin Trio, going through their not-quite-canon seven years at Hogwarts.**

 **I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Did I mention how much fun it is to write?**

 **And yes, I know, they are quite OOC. But they're going to be doing Dark, though not joining Voldemort. Voldemort was evil. They still can't be sweet little Gryffindors to survive in Slytherin.**

 **Yeah, basically, this will be a story about badass kids and the struggles they face of just being who they are.**

 **This was inspired by an Instagram post my friend shared with me. I'm very sorry, but I don't know that actual name of the person! Kudos anyway, though I don't know who you are.**

 **I hope you enjoy! It may take me a while to get more chapters up but they will appear!**

 **Anyway! Please read and review!**

 **Frost OUT!**


	2. Chapter 2

There is a hallway, and Hermione whips out her wand and blasts away two markings on the door, leaving the names Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Opening the door, they quickly glance around to see no one following them.

They walk through the door and Hermione is suddenly exhausted. Her legs shake and she leans against the wall, breath hissing through her teeth.

Ron lunges to her side, fingers twitching before settling on the mark on her face. A bead of sweat rolls off her forehead, bright and glimmering.

Harry stays back even as Ron helps Hermione to her feet, even as Hermione cackles and cries with satisfaction, even as Ron eyes the door with sudden mistrust. His gaze is locked over the room.

It's rather large and rectangular, with four beds that are draped with yards of billowing silver fabric. A window gleams with the water under the lake. There is a dresser by every table with an ornate mirror studded with snakes by the door.

Ron quite calmly reminds them that they can't keep this room, and points out the four trunks already settled by the foot of the beds.

Harry grins with the same knowing smirk as a secret pulls at his lips. "Oh, I don't think that'll be a problem."

He runs to his trunk, a rather fancy on that has curving, crescent-shaped marks carved into its surface. A second later, there is a book in his hand and he is narrowing his eyes as he flips past pages. Then he grins.

They stand back as he turns to the door, eyes closed and body straight. Then he talks. In strange, low hisses that ring sharp in the air.

" _Keep the door closed_."

There is a wind from nowhere, magic prickling over the edge of their skin. The door seems to flicker in the light, and a spark flies from the door handle.

And then he turns to the trunks, eyeing them slowly. His and Ron's are left there but two others - Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott - have theirs shoved out right before Hermione straightens her shoulders, fixes a blank look on her face and marches out of the room. There is no sound until she reappears, dragging her large trunk. The door snicks shut behind her and another spark of magic crackles against the air.

Hermione and Ron corner Harry until he starts to talk. He's a Parselmouth - has been ever since he was a child. But he didn't realize it was magic until he received the letter. The room has protection charms set in place by Salazar Slytherin himself; only activated by students in mortal peril or Parseltongue. It was in some obscure book he found that he didn't let Hagrid see.

Ron is still a bit wary, the last touches of his family bleeding through. But Hermione grins knowingly and asks if he can wait for Care of Magical Creatures. Harry laughs and laughs and says no, he cannot.

But then he looks at her, looks past the dagger-thin smile and remembers the book she was reading. The book that isn't quite available for regular students.

"What are you really reading?" Ron snaps to attention, head tilted to the side. His eyes dart to his trunk and then back up and he knows Hermione and Harry have both noticed, although he actually doesn't have much of anything. He does show them though - a filched book from his brother Bill about dangerous runes in tombs. Harry grins with excitement as he greedily scans the cover and back, and Ron guesses the book will be gone by midnight if he doesn't let Harry borrow it, so he does.

In that time, however, it's let Hermione dig out three whole books. They all have dreadfully boring covers - two about magical theory and another called _Hogwarts, A History_. At least until she grits her teeth, flicks out her wand, says a word, and jabs the edge of her wand down. " _Revealio_."

The history books become potion textbooks for the years above and _Hogwarts, A History_ becomes something with a profoundly old look to it called _Poisons_. Hermione flicks her wand and they go back to being boring, but now she's breathing hard and her wand hand is shaking.

At some point, there is a pounding knock on the door and some voice bleeds through, but the magic pops once and after a while, the people leave.

Ron hangs up the fancy robe on the edge of his bed and lays down, though he doesn't close his eyes. Harry and Hermione do the same before finally Ron snaps. There is a rule made that says they cannot do anything to the others while sleeping. They shake and fall asleep easily.

It's Hermione that wakes them up, touching their shoulders. They dress in robes, hemming another one of Harry's longer for Ron until they can sneak out and buy him better ones.

As one, they march out of their room. Sometime during the night, the three labels on the door have been replaced with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She whispers sideways that it is only the fourth time there has been a mixed gender room, and there's a passing of whip-thin smiles as they walk together

There aren't many people up yet, a few with prefect badges glittering on their chest. Ron straightens and his wand falls to the edge of his fingers. Rage touches the tip of his eyes, and Hermione and Harry steer him toward one of the couches. It is hardly a second later that Professor Snape sweeps over to them, and Hermione turns with the same sweet, sweet, sweet smile that she gave Draco.

He doesn't flinch, but it's close.

She will be having detention with him later that night organizing potion ingredients. As she nods and turns away, Harry and Ron see the brilliant and triumphant look in her eyes and a little too much teeth in her grin and wonder whether Snape is even _looking_. Whether he even _sees_.

Draco does not come into the common room, and there are whispers of the Hospital Wing. No first years bother Hermione, chatting quietly on the opposite side of the room. But the older years look almost furious, and hisses of _mudblood_ snake around the room.

Only Harry and Ron see the tightening of her shoulders, the snarl lifting her lips. She sees the way Ron holds his wand harder and a word dances on the tip of his tongue. A hand appears on his and she hums "Later." He understands.

Harry stares at the wallpaper, sees the snake curled over every inch. There's a hiss quiet in his words as he presses the tips of his fingers to the wall, and no one notices how the snakes shudder once, turning their heads to look at him. But he does, and there's something flickering in how he walks for the rest of the day.

But then Professor Snape walks to the front of the room, robes snapping behind him. He nods and talks quietly about house unity again. They will, for at least the beginning, leave for breakfast together. They are never allowed to be alone.

Words pass as shuffles and the darting of eyes between them, and a promise sparks to life. They will not be alone.

The march up out of the dungeons and into regular corridors is fast and boring. In no time the door is thrown open and they walk in, silent except for the click of heels. Snape goes to the professors' table.

There is still a gap around them, but this time, there are glaring older years sitting across from them. Their back is to the rest of the school and so they can sneer and hiss quiet, filthy words. Hermione's hand brushes against _Hogwarts, a History_ , and Harry grabs it before she can do anything.

But it's Ron that murmurs " _Livorus_." There is a gentle flash of red light under the table and then the student across from them gets a rather fixed sneer.

Stinging Hex. As they walk to their first class, Hermione tightly holds Ron's left hand and Harry holds the other.

They walk into the classroom of Charms together at least ten minutes before class starts. There are only two students in there, baring the soft blue of Ravenclaw. At once, they turn and stare and stare and stare.

"See him?"

"The scar?"

"Why is he in Slytherin?"

Hermione quickly finds a table and pulls out her Charms book, but Ron also pulls out his Defense against the Dark Arts book as well. It's dogeared, though it's obviously been looked after. Corners are folded down as bookmarks and he flips to one of them, showing off a beginner's jinx. It's focused on the counter-curse, but there is still the incantation of the hex on there.

"Help me," he murmurs to the two of them. There isn't a hesitation in their nod.

The rest of the students file in and there is Draco, sitting with a cloth wrapped around his hand. He doesn't look at them, but another boy does. It's Theodore Nott, and he snarls with fury and rage in his eyes.

Hermione doesn't give him the satisfaction of looking over.

Professor Flitwick shows up and squeaks out attendance. He falls over at Harry's name before heading onto the lesson - teaching the most basic of spells. The Levitation Charm.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_." And Hermione's feather floats into the air. Professor Flitwick cackles happily and gives five points.

She whispers words into their ears and in a few moments, two more feathers pick themselves up and hover. They're a bit shaky but they're doing it.

Hermione flicks her wand more, tracing a design in the air. The feather slowly bobs in a figure eight. Five more points. Theodore Nott scowls over his rising feather.

The class is over and most everyone has gotten it. There are only a few that could get one end of the feather to float but not the other, and Professor Flitwick tells them to give him a six-inch paper on what he calls intent.

And they are walking out the door, heading to lunch, when Theodore hisses under his breath and waits in front of them. There is no one else in the corridor and even the sounds of the other students are fading past.

Hermione is closest to him, and she is trying to inch back. Ron places a hand on her shoulder and takes a step forward.

"Blood-traitor, aren't you?" His voice is thin and quiet, but there's no subtly. No hidden thoughts, just plain hate and disgust. It almost makes things easier.

"Thought you were a Weasley - going to great old Gryffindor. Thanks for coming here. It makes us have to walk a lot less to curse you."

His wand is in his hands but Ron's are behind his back. He's got a button with the pin exposed and his finger out. He pricks it slowly, and a bead of blood rolls over his pale skin. There are more light circular scars over his fingers.

He pulls back his hand and touches the blood to the tip of his wand, and something hums in the air next to him. " _Livorus_."

The flash of red light is infinitely brighter and then there is a welt on Theodore's arm, and his eyes are wide and his wand is nearly falling out of his hand. Ron's eyes are wide and there is something dark in his grin, the way it pulls haltingly at his lips and forces him to take one smooth step forward.

Theodore turns with a huff and walks away.

He reattaches the button to his collar with practiced ease and just grins at them, no answers coming to his throat. They don't ask for them, and they walk to the lunch a little more confident.

* * *

 **Hello! The second chapter on the second day!**

 **So Harry's a Parselmouth, Ron's using blood magic, and Hermione has mastered magic and is rather curious about potions. Her detention should be interesting, shouldn't it?**

 **Also, after this one, the whole story should start to move a bit faster. You know, having some scenes in Snape's perspective and fast forwarding to let them know a bit more magic.**

 **And get into more situations. I wonder how Quirrel with go?**

 **But yeah. I feel so incredible after writing these, like I could rob a bank. Probably not good for me.**

 **Also, can you guys send me some ideas for Dark spells and rituals and potions? I think it'd be fun to incorporate you guys into the story!**

 **Anyway! Please read and review!**

 **Frost OUT!**


	3. Chapter 3

It is a quiet lunch, far from breakfast. They sit there, no one on either side, eating their food as quickly as they can while still being polite. It is a variety of things but Hermione grabs mashed potatoes and steak for them all and they eat it without complaints. If Harry and Ron sneak some treacle tarts onto their plates, she doesn't say a word.

Ron eats with an incredible amount of patience. He waits a few seconds, watching Hermione and Harry eat before picking up his fork. His movements are slow but he is eating everything neatly. A quick glance across the Hall at the Weasley's shoveling food down their throat explains it all.

Few Gryffindors are there, slightly more Ravenclaws and a smattering of Hufflepuffs. Mostly all first years, upperclassmen eating later or earlier. They still have no one to sit with.

Their yearmates are bunched up at the front of the table. Theodore is whispering words that skitter down the table toward them, but they're too quiet to understand.

They ignore them anyway. The way he doesn't put any weight on his arm is enough for them.

Snape has an uncomfortably close watch on them, dark and thoughtful and almost worried? It's hard to tell what he's thinking from this distance, but Harry keeps one eye on him all the same. His fingers are bouncing underneath the table and he can feel the wood shifting, bunching up before smoothing out. It senses him, and he loves it.

Dumbledore is also watching the trio. His eyes, much colder and icier than they were before, never leave them even though he makes a show of looking warmly over the Hall. Harry eyes him as well.

But perhaps the most damning piece of evidence is the Weasley family, drenched in red and gold, slipping a several parchment long letter into an envelope. The eldest is the quietest about it all, fingers tight and bunched on the edge of the table. There are few people this early, and it allows them a clear sight line over the Hall.

The twins are loud and almost angry, with blue eyes narrowed down at Ron. He doesn't look up but there are knuckles turning white and palms marred with crescent-shaped cuts. The envelope is picked up by an old and thin owl which flaps slowly away, disappearing through a large window near the roof.

As one, they stand and walk from the Hall.

Their last class of the day is Transfiguration. It is close to the Hall and they walk there fast, few out in the hallways.

"The letter was to Mum," Ron hisses under his breath. His throat is rough and scratchy and painful. "I'll be getting a Howler tomorrow."

"No, you won't." Hermione's voice is sharp.

"You can't change what'll happen. I'm the first Weasley to not get into Gryffindor for around a hundred years. And she sends Howlers for detention, not to mention something as big as this!"

"Library. We can stop the Howler."

She is quite smug as they step into the classroom. The boys share a look over her head and say nothing, and a bit of the hopeless look in Ron's eyes flickers away.

They find three seats in the middle. The class is with the Gryffindors, and it starts in around five minutes. Not as early as Hermione would have liked, but it'll do.

The room was large, but mainly filled with desks and shelves. They lined the walls, filled with the most curious of knickknacks. Boxes of buttons, teapots, stacks of matches.

And a cat

It was sitting on the desk, perfectly still. A light brown with black tiger stripes down its back, and little silver markings around its eyes. Its gaze snapped to every student that walked into the room.

Harry felt rather like hissing at it.

The last couple of students trickled in, surprisingly quiet. They found the rest of the seats, pulling out books and laying wands on desks.

Finally, the bell rung.

The cat leaps off the desk and lands as a human.

Gasps flickered around the room as Professor McGonagall fixed her glasses, stared at them, and started the lesson.

In the middle of the classroom, the trio practically _beamed_.

The class passed without anything out of the sort happening, and they left the room with the promise of their first real spell come next lesson. Hermione was still buzzing, fingers dancing over the tip of her wand. It was slung up her wrist, and she flicked it in and out.

"We could do that. We have to." There were people in the hallway but she didn't care, eyes snapping in between them.

"Animagus," Ron hissed, eyes bright. "I bet I could find something that could help us in the library. Hermione? Do you know any books-"

"You guys go ahead."

They stared at Harry, eyebrows rising to their hairline. "What do you mean?" Ron finally asked.

"Go ahead. I have to check something out." Harry said determinedly, fingering the edge of his wand.

"We have to stay together," Hermione pressed. "Snape-"

But Ron saw something, pressing a hand to Hermione's chest. "Okay. Meet us in the library later today."

Harry nodded.

The pair of them turned around with a swish of robes and started back down the hallway, moving fast until they disappear around the corner. The corridor was empty now, students moved onto common rooms and the library for their free time.

A wand poked the back of his neck. Harry stiffened.

"Scared now, Potter? The snaky Boy-Who-Lived gone Dark?"

The voice was soft and hissed furiously, close to his ear. He didn't dare turn around, heart fluttering.

Why did he stop?

Oh Merlin, he was going to _die_ and it hadn't even been one _day_ -

There is a fist at his chest and his vision tunnels-

Something hits his face-

He walks quietly to the library, painfully aware of the looks he is getting from students walking past. They stop and whisper behind hands, eyes either narrowed with thought or wide with empathy or tilted with curiosity. He does his best to ignore them and walks on, head steadily creeping lower into his chest.

Madam Pince doesn't see him but Ron and Hermione did, waving their hands to invite him over to their little table in the back.

He walks closer, they see his face, and problems ensure.

He's got at least one black eye and his chest feels like something's broken. There were spells cast on his back and it burns like it's on fire. His wand escaped unharmed but his robe was ripped at the bottom.

"Harry!" Hermione yelped, jumping forward. Her hand presses against his chest and he barely bites back a shriek.

"We have to get you to the commons." None of them suggest the Hospital Wing.

It's an undefendable spot where Harry will have to wait at least a day in the room to heal. That can't happen. Yes, not taking him there will send the message that he can be attacked again but he can't be seen as a pushover. Slytherin will chew and spit him out if he does.

So instead Hermione props him up, letting him lean heavily on her shoulder. But Ron pauses, staring at the book in his hand.

"Can you distract her?" He murmurs, eyes flicking to the librarian.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Yes, but make it quick."

Still holding Harry, she tottered up to the desk and pushed her eyes open wide. "Excuse me, are we allowed to check out books? Take them up to our common room?"

In the time it takes for her to answer, Ron has the book under his robe and tucked against his chest. He touches Hermione's shoulder and they walk out after thanking Madam Pince.

The walk to the common room took far too long. There were beads of sweat on Harry's forehead by the time they arrived, and before they went in Hermione raised her hand.

"Ron, take Harry. I need to go in first."

Harry grumbled but shifted his weight over to Ron's side.

Hermione marched through the portrait, shoulders straight and fingers neat and clasped on the edge of her robe. Her eyes flickered over the faces of Slytherins who either glared back or lowered their eyes. She shuffled forward, and Harry and Ron walked through.

They made a remarkable show of not looking like one was injured, speeding toward their room. The second they made it in, Hermione snapped the door shut and leaned against it.

Harry fell toward his bed, gasping. The pain in his chest had gotten worse.

"Robes. Off." Hermione stepped forward, snapping toward Ron. "Now!"

Harry didn't even struggle, panting lightly. Ron pulled it over his head with no resistance and, at Hermione's nod, removed his shirt.

There was a bruise already burning a deep blue in the middle of his chest. The edges were still red but quickly darkening.

Hermione growled. "Weak Bludgeoning Curse. No first year could do this unless they had training. You've already made upper year enemies?"

"Thanks," Harry bit out.

Ron snapped back to attention. "I have an idea."

He ran to his trunk, pulling open the lid. His book on runes was yanked out and quickly flipped to a certain page. His eyes scanned it at the speed of light.

"Wax!" He barked.

Hermione ran to one of the candles on the wall, blowing it out and pulling off the top. She threw it to Ron, who deftly caught it with one hand.

"Something sharp!"

Hermione paused before diving into her trunk. A few seconds later she had a quill in her hand, the edge brand new and thin.

Ron gripped it tightly and held the wax in his other hand, eyes flicking in between the book and the wax. He carved things into its still-warm surface, tongue in between his teeth. Harry was nearly biting his off.

But then he was done, and his button was in his hand and pricking his finger. He smeared the blood on the runes and pressed the wax onto Harry's chest.

He yelped but then stopped, face relaxing. The pure white wax slowly darkened, shading until it was a light grey. Then it stopped.

When Ron lifted the candle away, the bruise was little more than a red splotch on his chest.

"Rune magic." Hermione's voice was high. "That was-"

" _Wicked_ ," Harry breathed, gently prodding his chest. He didn't even wince. His eyes snapped up to meet Ron's almost bashful eyes. "How did you learn that?"

"Bill's book," he admitted. "I've been studying it for a few years. This has to be the fastest rune cluster I've ever done, and I haven't done that many."

Hermione let out a surprised laugh. "That was brilliant, Ron! Absolutely brilliant!"

He blushed.

"What book did you grab?" Harry asked, pulling his shirt back over his head. He left the robes off, folding them up as neatly as he could. The tear wasn't that bad, but it was still noticeable.

Ron slipped his hand up his robe and grabbed the edge of this book, bringing it out. He showed them the cover. _Rituals for the Truly Magick_.

"I'm going to learn how to do them." His voice was sure.

There was a tap on the do, much softer than the knocks of the other children. Ron slid the book under his bed just as Hermione walked to the door. She pulled it open.

Severus Snape stepped through the door, black eyes calm and blank. He looked at everything in under a second before his gaze snapped back to Hermione.

"Miss Granger." There was nothing in his voice. "It is time for your detention."

"Of course," she said mildly. She followed him out the door.

Harry watched her leave, eyes narrowed. Then his eyes flew to the candle. "Ron? What do the runes mean?"

"Oh! Well, this one-"

Hermione marched back into their room, a grin so wide it touched her ears on her face.

"How was it?"

She kept smiling, hands in her pockets. "It wasn't that bad. I just labeled jars and put them in the right place."

Slowly, she slid the door shut.

She pulled three vials from her pocket, gently placing them on her bedside table.

They laughed long into the night.

* * *

 **Hye guys! So this will be another one my not super updated pieces, but I will be updating it! Don't worry!**

 **I'll probably be starting to skip ahead soon, going faster and faster. But Hermione's got potions, Ron's got runes and rituals, and Harry's got enemies! What do you think of that?**

 **Also, does anyone know anything about Wizarding runes? I'm pretty sure that the use Norse runes, but I'm not positive. Also, do any of you know anything about Norse runes?**

 **Second question! Rituals for Ron! The Darker the better, though not evil. Like ones to make him be able to run faster or summon shields.**

 **Third question! What Animagi should they become? Tell me! I'm quite excited and with Hermione's potions and Ron's Rituals, they should be able to get it in no time!**

 **Anway! Please read and review!**

 **Frost OUT!**


	4. Chapter 4

It's been three days, but they're making it.

They hide their emotions in the curl of fingers and the hardening of smiles. Grins curve over their face like whips and words bubble up their throats that never reach the air.

It seems like the world is still against them. The professors are keen-eyed and they seem to never stop watching them, and the headmaster is the worst. His eyes are constantly on Harry, but they've switched back to positive twinkling.

Slytherin is still casually neutral in public. A Gryffindor snaps abuse at Harry and an upper year stomps over and carefully puts a hand on his shoulder, face dropping to a scowl. The other person leaves, the Slytherin drops his shoulder like it's on fire, and they go about their day. Slytherins must have a unified front in public, no matter how many times the word _mudblood_ slithers around the room too fast for Hermione to catch who said it.

Theodore is still bad. He's loved on from taunts and teasing and started rumors, not making any more direct moves against them. Magic crackles between Hermione's fingers when she sees him and Ron's hands tighten on his wand. Draco hasn't ever bothered them again, quietly focusing on his studies.

But they weren't able to stop the Howler. It arrived the next day, delivered by the same old owl that lost a feather dropping the bright red letter on the table.

Ron froze. Harry eyed it curiously. Hermione had her wand out.

Then it exploded into furious words and hissed breathes and sentences that curled Ron's shoulders.

"Disgrace to the family! My youngest boy in Slytherin! Just wait until your father gets home!"

And more and more and more. There are sneers from across the room.

Harry and Hermione share a look and then they are gathering food far sweeter and more filled with sugar than anything else. They pile it on his plate and give him a nudge to shock him back into wakefulness.

The eyes of the Great Hall are on him.

And slowly, Ron starts eating.

His brothers still haven't made a move yet. It's almost worrying.

Harry hasn't been attacked yet, and he's finished healing. Hermione and Ron are with him at all times. They only talk freely in their room, when they're far away from the hisses from the Slytherins and the shouts from the Gryffindors and the scrutinization from the professors.

Hermione always has her _Hogwarts, a History_ book with her, nose buried deep. Whenever a teacher passes her without so much as blinking, her lips twitch and they laugh to each other in silent shuffles and taps of feet.

She didn't grab anything too dangerous from the potions room, but the Forbidden Forest is a treat too sweet to ignore. It won't be long until they can sneak out and gather what they will, and Hermione already has a list of things they will find.

But they can't risk it yet, not with the stories of the monsters that lived underneath the cover of its trees. They've sat around the lake before, pretending to do homework, but scanning out a path that they could run to get there without detection.

Ron reads his ritual book for hours at night after doing his homework. Hermione learned a bluebell flame charm that lets one stay inside a little jar so he doesn't have to use the torches, and though purple moons stamp themselves underneath his eyes he has never looked more alive.

Harry is the one who he goes to for ingredients. In only a few days he's learned his way around, he knows how to stand behind someone and not have them notice him, and if any teacher dares challenge him his lips quirk up and his eyes widen until he is just innocent, innocent, innocent.

He needs white candle wax and a knife. In a day, Harry comes back with an armload of candles, a knife, and the path to the kitchens. There's still a secret pulling his lips into a smile, but they don't push.

But now it is Friday and it is their first Potions class. Hermione was scampering around in their room, quizzing them on everything she could think of. Harry had dutifully answered back, Ron too busy in his ritual book. He seemed to never put the thing down, and ever since he had gotten Hermione to charm the cover he never went anywhere without it. To be frank, Harry couldn't wait to see what he started to do with it.

But then they were perfectly changed with books in bags and wands against their wrists and then they were marching through their commons. Draco was quietly talking with a dark-skinned boy - Blaise Zabini - and he didn't look at them. Rumors were of his father being very angry but also insanely curious about the trio of them.

Theodore, of course, scowled as they walked by. They didn't say anything.

The classroom was cold but not overly so, and the desks were half book room half burner. They found a table for four and quickly covered the remaining spot with their bags, sitting quickly.

The students file in and then the door is opening with a bang, black robes swishing in. Snape raises an eyebrow at their placement but says nothing, immediately moving into role call. Everyone is there and on time. You don't disobey Snape.

There's a speech that gets Hermione's eyes flaring and crackling like a fire. Her fingers dance over the edge of her book.

And then there are questions. "Class! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

She pauses but then Hermione's hand is in the air. He looks around once before calling on her, eyes curiously blank.

"The Draught of Living Death, sir." Her tone is nothing but mild and calm. Harry and Ron don't trust it for a second, and there's something a bit too sharp in the way she curls her fingers over the edge of the table.

"Correct." His voice is equally blank. "Five points to Slytherin."

"And what-" he strides forward until he is uncomfortably close to the front of the class. "-would I get if I added ashwinder ash to that?"

Hermione is frowning. Ron is too.

But Harry knows snakes, and after a second he is raising his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"It would crystallize. The potion, I mean, sir."

"Very good. Another five points." And then he is whirling back up to the front of the classroom, robes snapping behind him. "Well? Write that down!"

There is a smile on Harry's face that barely covers his flashing amusement. That question wasn't in the textbook, nor in Hermione's other potion books. He just knew it.

They are assigned a potion, and Hermione makes it perfectly. They help, as there is no other person sitting at their table for Ron to pair with. Smiles flicker over the table.

A couple of wormwood circles slip into Hermione's sleeve. They don't say anything.

He checks their potion and awards them five more points. Then they bottle it up, place the vial on his desk, and leave.

Their next week passes much the same, at least to the teachers.

The professors adore quick, clever Hermione, who answers the questions correctly every time they ask. Ron powers through the spell, and if his match isn't quite shiny enough he's also the one who got it first and made his last the longest. Harry turns in the homework assignments with careful, neat handwriting that scrawls on for pages, twisting from topic to topic.

But Snape still doesn't trust them. He has noticed that he is left with fewer potion supplies after each class, strange ones that never seem to connect. The smell of fire and blood drift under their door as Ron stays up late. The wallpaper full of snakes shudder and shake as Harry walks into rooms, and the fireplace of a snake's head glows brighter as he enters.

Their grades are perfect, they are the picturesque students, and the other Slytherins leave them alone physically for the most part.

And then there is a summons from Dumbledore to Harry, and another for Ron, and a third for Hermione. There is no reason on the paper.

They are spaced an hour apart, using free periods. Harry will have to skip lunch to make his. It's a choice that straightens their shoulders and curls their lips. Tomorrow.

That night, Ron finally puts his book to good use.

He uses a holly branch that fell from a tree that he pulled through the corridors and into their room. It's only as thick as a finger and about a foot long, nearly the exact shape of a wand.

They sit in a circle, torches burned down. Bluebell flames in vials flicker around the room, dull and muted. Magic presses heavily down on them all.

He has a metal needle in his hand, one that Hermione Transfigured for him. It was held over a flame, the tip growing more and more red until it is sizzling in the air.

Hermione had already cut up the end of the stick into three little chunks, tiny circles only a quarter of an inch thick. Harry sterilized the knife, the edge sharpened over the last hour. Ron had the book open on the edge of the circle.

She slowly handed Ron one of the circles. He took it, something sparking in his eyes. Pressing the tip of the metal to the wood, he began to burn a mark into its surface. Flames flashed over his fingers.

He did the second. Then the third.

And then he collapsed backward, breathing hard.

Harry and Hermione pounced on the circles, grabbing the knife. They each cut their thumbs and pressed the blood on the mark. Ron slowly rose, doing the same.

Something crackled between them.

Harry eyed the mark. "It looks like a lightning bolt."

"Eihwaz. Means yew tree and protection. As long as you have that with you, spells shouldn't do as much damage." He was still almost panting.

They laughed together, tucking the wood into pockets.

* * *

 **Yay~!**

 **First ritual!**

 **I know it's kind of tame, just burning wood with a bit of blood. But remember, this is Ron's first dally with rituals that are meant to have a permanent effect. So be nice to the poor boy! He's trying his best.**

 **Like I said, this story is going to be going faster by leaps and bounds. So just sit tight - we might be at Fluffy next chapter, who knows?**

 **Well, we'll actually be at the meetings with Dumbledore. They should be fun to write!**

 **Also, do you guys think that the trio should become Animagi this year, the next, or their third? Who should get it first? And should they be magical creatures or not? That might be interesting!**

 **Also - what's a cool poison that can be found in the Forbidden Forest? Have fun!**

 **Anyway! Please read and review!**

 **Frost OUT!**


End file.
